Total pages in book: 45
Estimated words: 43540 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 218(@200wpm)___ 174(@250wpm)___ 145(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 43540 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 218(@200wpm)___ 174(@250wpm)___ 145(@300wpm)
“My car’s just fine. And for the last time, stop calling me babe. I’m not your babe anymore.”
Darkness flashes in his gaze, and his lips narrow. “Yeah. Two years now. Let’s go.”
Easton doesn’t wait for me and climbs back onto the snowmobile. He’s pissed. But why? Because I didn’t let him convince me it was an accident and he loved me so much? That we should have pretended it never happened and carried on? Screw that. I wasn’t going to be manipulated by his lies. I stomp through the snow and swat his hand away when he tries to help me up. I climb on, slip, and allow him to grab me before I biff my face against the seat. He wraps his arm around me and helps me swing my leg up, then grips my waist and tugs me into him with less finesse than last time. “Hang on. Would hate for you to fall off.” I would turn around and slap him, but he takes off, and I’m too worried about falling or him purposely throwing me off.
Chapter four
Easton
When we pull back up to the cabin, I shut the snowmobile off and jump off like it’s on fire. Not waiting for Cal, I storm inside and slam my bedroom door shut behind me. My heart thumps against my chest, and I struggle to catch my breath. I grab my hair, hoping to release the tension, but it does shit to help the pounding in my head. Leaning over, I press my hands against my mattress.
Why the fuck is she here?
I should kick her ass out. See how she likes being thrown out without an explanation. I should have known something was up when I ran into Tory a few months back. All those questions. That bitch was always meddling in our business. But it still doesn’t explain why they sent her here.
God, she looks good. Angelic. She could have been covered from head to toe in muck and still be the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen. Time has been nothing but good to her. Her hair is longer, and she looks skinnier, which pisses me off. Why, I have no idea. She never ate a lot when we were together. Claimed she was on a budget diet. Her food consisted of ramen and whatever shit I would try and bulk her up with. And now, she looks ten pounds lighter, if that’s even possible. I wonder who’s taking care of her. Making sure she’s okay. Not that she needed to be taken care of, but she needed me. She needed me in ways that made me feel powerful. Like I was her world. I would have done anything to keep her safe. Happy. Always mine.
My fingers dig into the blanket, clenching my sheet. Deep breaths, Cruz. She’ll be gone soon. And things will go back to normal. Quiet. Numbing. Alone.
I gather myself, push down the resurfacing emotions, and leave my room. Callie is sitting on the couch, hands tucked into her lap and doing that little thing she does with her lower lip when she’s nervous.
“Stop that.”
“Stop what?”
“Sucking your lip into your mouth. You’re just asking me to fuck you.”
“Oh wow. So, you’re saying all I need to do is this, and you’ll fuck me?”
I reach for her, pulling her into my arms. “Keep that up, and I’m going to do more than fuck you, babe.” I press my mouth to hers, taking her bottom lip between my teeth. “You’ll never have to be nervous with me. I’ll always keep you safe. Happy. Mine.”
I tear my eyes away from her and walk into the kitchen. “Want some coffee?” I ask, already knowing the answer. If there is one thing she loves more than me, it’s caffeine. Loved, asshole. Past tense.
“Yes, please.” She stands and pulls out a stool to sit at the counter. A rumble sounds in her direction, and I watch as her cheeks flush, and she grabs her stomach. “Oh my god, not even sure what that was.”
Fuck. She hasn’t eaten anything since she got here. Hell knows when the last time she did.
“Hungry?”
“I mean, yeah, I could eat.” Her stomach growls again. “Okay, fine. Yes. That would be great.”
I nod because I can’t trust what might come out of my mouth if I spoke. I grab some eggs and bacon out of the fridge. When the coffee is ready, I pour her a cup and start breakfast.
“So, what brings you out here?” she asks, breaking the silence.
“Work,” I reply, cracking an egg into the pan.
“Work? What exactly does that consist of?”
Flipping the bacon, I turn, lean against the counter, and sip my coffee. “I was contracted to renovate this cabin. The owner has seven rental houses spread out along the county. They all needed work done, so he hired me to restore them. Once I finish with one, I move on to the next.”